


A Change of a Hat

by MarxistMouse



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Assassin's Creed: Syndicate, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Jacob's new hat, Parody well a wee bit, Sexual Content, Victorian
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-27
Updated: 2015-10-26
Packaged: 2018-04-17 12:57:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4667360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarxistMouse/pseuds/MarxistMouse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jacob has eschewed the top hat in favour of something a bit more discreet. Maybe he's finally rethinking his position on stealth?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Frye, is that you under there?

"Right, we'll need to get to Mayfair, along the Strand and up Pall Mall. This is still a Templar Borough so please, keep yourselves as discreet as possible. No conspicuous weaponry, no public drunkenness. No brawling". You addressed the motley assortment of yellow sashed thugs employed by the Fryes in their makeshift coachyard, punctuating each statement with a firm stare at the worst offenders.

You still hadn't become completely accustomed to giving orders to the Rooks. But they respected you just about enough to heed your advice, even if some of them were noticeably bristling at you.

The objective was simple enough, enter a fancy society party and assassinate a target and leave. And do some secondary scouting for other prominent individuals in the Templar hierarchy. As an fairly unknown assassin you could infiltrate without arousing suspicion. The Rooks would be present in support as the area hadn't been completely cleared of its less desirable element and drive you there as properly befitting a fancy schmancy society lady. You sighed quietly as you made your way over to the carriage door. That was probably the hardest bit. You'd been trussed up into a dark blue dress with an uncomfortable boned corset. For all that it was pretty, and overlaid with beautiful jet beading, It pinched when you inhaled, and exhaled for that matter. How on earth Henry came by it, you didn't want or need to know, you mused irritably.

A tall figure with his back to you was attending to the harnesses and making sure the horses were ready to go. You didn't recognise him from behind. Brilliant, a new one. Probably the greenest thing here. They could've at least given you a driver with some experience. The other Rooks had left, already making their way to Westminster on foot.

"You. We leave in 20 minutes". You directed at the dark coated back and started doublechecking the knives that you had slipped into your black boots. "I affirm what I said to the others. Just do your job and draw no attention to yourself".

"Yes, Miss". Your eyebrows knitted together as you recognised the deep cockney inflected voice. You grabbed the arm of the driver and whipped him round to face you quickly.

"Frye!" Your first feelings were incredulity and irritation followed swiftly by laughter at his appearance. He was wearing a dark coachmans long coat over his usual white shirt and waistcoat. Topped by a frankly ridiculous looking baker boy cap.

You doubled over and he stared at you with arms folded in annoyance. Every time you regained composure another look at his surprisingly boyish looking face under the hat caused you to burst into another wave of snorting.

Eventually, you stood up to full height and straightened the skirts of the dress. Taking a breath to steady yourself was more difficult under the stupid corset.

"Finished?" He asked archly, leaning against the coach looking irritated.

"Frye, is that……is that you under there?" You flicked the cap upwards with your finger, your voice coloured with barely suppressed laughter.

"Course it is" Frye glares with mock affrontery "And to think I was going to drive you to this shindig on my evening off". 

"You look about 15" your voice cracked into a fresh fit of giggling.

"15" he repeated stonily. At this moment, he certainly looked sulky enough to be an adolescent.

"You look adorable though. Very cute and innocent looking". The face that was normally shadowed by an assassin hood or top hat was illuminated softly by early evening light and given a youthful cast. 

"Cute. And adorable. What every man wants to hear. Thank you love" he walked to the front of the carriage to get himself into the drivers seat.

"In a good way" you insist, following him over and looking up at him sat stiffly on his perch. "I think I prefer you in it" you add sincerely, trying to rescue the situation.

"Evie said my clothes and appearance was too conspicuous and well known in certain areas". 

"So you thought you'd just wear a different hat?" The question comes out with a bit more disbelief than you intended.

"Exactly. I call it stealth". You were well aware of the Jacob Frye approach to stealth. This was certainly an interesting and novel development.

You felt laughter start to bubble up again and swallow it back down. "Yes exactly. When the order was formed and the tenets regarding hiding in plain sight were made, I think they meant wear a creative range of hats". 

"Stealth". He repeats, nodding sagely, before leaping down and landing next to you with his usual grace. "Besides, you didn't recognise me and you've seen more of me than most". The statement makes your face colour slightly and you hide your embarrassment by turning and pulling the worn brass of the door handle.

"Allow me to help you into the carriage, Miss". After lowering the steps he offers his hand with unusual gallantry to help you negotiate the steps in your ridiculous layers of skirts and petticoats. You mutter your thanks and return your attention away from Frye and his loaded comments and back to not tripping over or embarrassing yourself in public. Or committing some sort of social faux pas. That would probably happen at some point in the night. The nerves of being in a completely unfamiliar situation with people you find odious combined with the usual adrenaline before an assassination makes your jaw clench and sets your teeth on edge.

Obviously, you haven't hidden your anxiety well enough as you feel a gentle squeeze of your fingers. "You'll be fine" Frye murmurs reassuringly, locking dark hazel eyes on yours.

"Of course". You try to fake the confidence you don't feel and roll your shoulders back into a determined set and look over to Frye. A feeling of relief washes over you at the sight of his face and you lower yourself into the seats in a distinctly less than ladylike way.

"You look beautiful, love. As ever" His eyes rake up your figure, before settling on the beaded dark embroidery of the corset and the swell of your breasts over it with a devilish smile. 

Well, Jacob Fryes hat notwithstanding, this was setting itself up to be a singular evening, you think as your charming driver slams the door shut.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arrival in Mayfair

The carriage pulls up to the Mayfair address and you lurch forward slightly as it comes to a stop. Checking that your hidden blade is concealed under the sleeves of the gown, you take a deep, calming breath before shifting forward. You look out the small square window and scope out the exits and count the guards. In the haze from the lamps your profile is silhouetted on the glass. You look……quite nice. Your hair is swept back carefully and Evie kindly leant you a pair of jet earrings.

The door on the road side opens and closes quietly and a small draught makes some strands of hair come loose from the chignon. Jacob lands next to you on the seat with a heavy thud, following your eyeline. "Shouldn't take you too long" comes the deep voice as he leans over you. Your pulse flutters as his wide shoulders brush against you.

You cough quietly, in part to remind him his elbow is digging into your right leg and in part to make him move away so you can regain your focus. As he comes up with an apology he rubs at your thigh and the expression on his face is endearing. The contrast between the hard muscular body and the softer, younger looking Frye under the cap is disarming at such close range.

You roll your bottom lip inwards and swallow apprehensively. "Nothing to worry about" he murmurs watching the play of muscles in your neck, misinterpreting the reason for your insistently hammering pulse. The feelings for him that you had kept so tightly under control come rushing to the surface at the closeness of his body. And you desperately hope he feels the same too.

"It's not what you think". The words come out of a parched mouth as you lean in closer to him and wrap your hand around the back of his neck. You toy with the soft slightly too long hair peeking out from under the hat and giggle quietly. 

"I read that etiquette book Henry leant you for tonight" Frye whispers , pulling you closer by your waist and then drifting it lower to give your hip a brief squeeze" a lady doesn't giggle at a gentleman's advances".

"Luckily, you're not one" you're close enough to see amber streaks in his irises and feel his warm breath tickling your cheek. His irrepressible grin in the half light is almost feral. You feel yourself relax at his enthusiastic response to your advances.

"Very lucky" he agrees in a husky tone that makes your stomach flip, before his lips land on yours. Your lips part to let him in and a moan eases from your throat as his kiss deepens. His talented mouth alternates between massaging your tongue and nibbling at your bottom lip.

His kisses move from your mouth to follow the angle of your jawline. And his hand traces your throat gently on the opposite side, stroking his long fingers up and down the soft exposed skin, making you shiver in anticipation. You can feel him grin against your neck as he finds the rapidly beating pulse point there. He rubs against that sensitive spot with his stubble before latching onto it with his mouth.

His hands drift lower, leaving warmth in their wake and his mouth pulls away slightly in consternation as he finds the bustle of the dress. "What the hell's all this?" He frowns pulling at the layered fabric, as you laugh quietly and move the large hands firmly back up to your waist. 

It suddenly dawns on you that you might be seen through the small window and you shove Frye away roughly, breasts heaving under the stays. "Jesus. What was that for?"

"I don't think a lady would be behaving improperly with her coachman" you breathe. The hat that started it has fallen off and you push it into his chest "Here put this back on and try and look respectable when you open the door for me". You quickly try to adjust the pins that have been knocked loose and get your breath back. But anyone with half an imagination will take one look at your swollen lips and flushed cheeks and know what you've been up to. Surreptitiously, you run your fingers over your neck checking for marks and scratches from his stubble, finding only your own beating pulse and warm skin.

"I do love it when my lady orders me around" he growls lowly, as he watches your fingers rub his marks on your neck, causing you to tense under the layers of net and lace as he pushes the door open.

"Do I look alright?" You whisper as he comes round to the pavement side of the carriage. The apprehension that had been laying dormant is starting to come back.

"Everything's where it should be" he says in a low voice as he helps you navigate the steps, his dancing eyes on the impressive amount of cleavage created by the corset.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for my hiatus from updating anything. Both my littlies were sick with flu and between them being ill and up all night I was too exhausted to do anything but catch up with sleep.
> 
> I do hope you all enjoy reading this. I sat on it for a while as I wanted "Rook" to progress more first. 
> 
> And thanks again for bearing with me. And for all the comments and kudos. Xxx


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Escape from Mayfair

The kill went smoothly. The exit did not. As you had predicted, you stood on your own skirt, scandalised a trio of dowagers by muttering "Shit" and at some point ripped one of the petticoats. All in all, a delightful evening. Now you were clinging to a trellis thick with lush green ivy waiting to jump onto the carriage roof. Except, where the bloody fuck was the carriage? Someone was bound to look out the window soon. You take a deep breath and let the cold night air calm you and soothe the rough kisses you're sure are seared into your skin.

Your ears make out commotion and shouting. The body of the expired ambassador had been discovered and you tensed reaching for the revolver hidden under the pile of skirts. Wrapping an arm through the trellis for support you take careful aim and shoot out the crystal wall lights in the room one by one. That should buy you some time and create enough confusion, you think as the yells get louder. Scanning the area quickly, you see the carriage approach and time your jump from the window as it passes under.

You land lightly on the roof and slide yourself quickly down to the driver seat, wincing slightly as you hear the fabric rip a bit more. "Where the fuck were you?" You hiss to Jacob. "Oh fuck. Henry's going to bloody kill me". You examine your clothes with a disappointed scowl, the dress is ruined and Green is going to be furious with you. Frye raises an eyebrow and chuckles at the barrage of expletives. "So very ladylike. Hope you didn't start effin' and blindin' in front of everyone".

"Can we just get out of here before the bloody police show up?" You snarl in response as the words hit a mark. Everything about this escapade has set you on edge. Your thoughts and emotions were spinning before you even walked through the door. "And I was a model of respectability and class, thank you very much", you add in a low undertone.

You get another quiet laugh in response before he chucks the reigns and clicks the horses into movement. You reload the revolver from the box of ammunition under the seat and only feel the adrenaline start to ebb out of your veins after a few streets.

"So what were you doing?" You say leaning against him and closing your eyes briefly. The juddering motion of the carriage is more soothing when you can feel cold air on your face. The tight restricted feeling in your chest is infuriating and you undo the top two stays, desperate to be able to breathe again. You sigh softly as the discomfort eases slightly allowing you to take freer breaths of crisp night air. 

Up until this point Jacob had been sneaking sly glances at you but you suddenly realise he is staring at you with a naked, hungry expression. Seemingly completely oblivious to everything else

"Eyes on the road! Eyes on the road!" You snap and jerk the reins to the left sharply, pulling the carriage out of its meander into the middle of the road. You let your fingers do the talking and make an obscene gesture at a wildly gesticulating, cursing hackney driver.

"Where were you?" You take possession of the reins and decide to drive. Better for everyone's safety.

"Doing some acquisition. Just relieving them of a few things"' he stretches out languidly with his fingers interlinking behind his head. Clutching the reins in one hand you turn round and open the hatch . There are several bottles of French champagne stashed in the footwell and you look back at Frye completely nonplussed.

"They won't miss it. They'll be more concerned about a dead ambassador than some missing booze" even in the dark, his eyes glitter with mischief. "Anyway I think some champagne will round off the evening nicely".

Round off the evening? You turn round in the seat fully to stare at his handsome profile whilst he holds the reins loosely. There will be no rounding off of the evening. You want to go home, take off the stupid dress and possibly have a bath. Whatever Frye has in mind will be the complete opposite of that. Between your less than dignified escape and the general discomfort of the unfamiliar clothing what's left of your ardour has completely cooled. 

"Frye. I do not want a night on the town or whatever you have in mind. I just want to take off this dress". The response is curt and acerbic. 

"I want to take that dress off you too" he returns huskily, grinning at your face colouring at the bawdy innuendo you walked into.

"What do you have in mind then?" You mirror his cheeky irrepressible grin despite yourself and decide to go along with Jacobs plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone's enjoying playing Syndicate. And that you like this chapter. Xxx So sorry for the lateness, writers block hit me really badly this past month. And I wanted to make sure my chapters were up to scratch before I published them on here.
> 
> Any ideas for what Jacob wants to do btw ;)?

**Author's Note:**

> This is a little 2-3 chapter story that has the same reader character from my longer fic, the Rook and the Raven. 
> 
> I was inspired after seeing the pre order trailer for the Darwin/Dickens DLC and I kind of wanted to post something as a thank you for the people that have read and liked my maiden fic. Still can't really believe it *blushes*
> 
> (Oh and this is also a wee birthday present for AquilaTempestas. Sorry it's late, but it's definitely written with you in mind. Xx)
> 
> Btw how cute does Jacob look in the new hats? I barely recognised him.


End file.
